


I'm tired of running, let's walk for a minute

by coffeesuperhero



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesuperhero/pseuds/coffeesuperhero





	I'm tired of running, let's walk for a minute

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[fic](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [fic: bsg](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/tag/fic:+bsg)  
  
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_**Fic: BSG: I'm tired of running, let's walk for a minute**_  
**Title:** I'm tired of running, let's walk for a minute  
**Fandom:** Battlestar Galactica (2003)  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dee  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimers:** Set during Crossroads, but AU. Spoilers through Crossroads II just to be safe. This isn't for profit, just for the fun of [](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/profile)[**bsg_pornbattle**](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/). All characters &amp; situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song belonging to the Nelly Furtado &amp; Timbaland, which I also had nothing to do with.  
**Prompts**: two of a kind

Sam starts running when he leaves Joe's, trying to figure out where this music is coming from. It gets louder, but he comes no closer to finding the source, and by his fifth lap around the corridor near the pilots' bunks, he's just running to block it out. He keeps running until his knee won't take it anymore, then ducks into the empty ready room and collapses into a seat. He doesn't know how long he sits there, eyes closed, breathing hard, before he opens his eyes and notices that he is not alone.

Dee is sitting at the end of the row, rubbing her temples. She looks tired, and he sympathizes.

"Hey," he says awkwardly, and the music increases in volume, so he shakes his head a little to clear it. "You okay?"

"I don't know," she replies, standing suddenly and walking over to him like she's being pulled. Her steps fall in time with the beat of the music that he can't stop hearing, and his eyes widen as he watches her walk toward him.

"Music? You hear it, too?" Sam guesses, and she nods. "Thought it was just me. Wish I knew where the frak it was coming from."

"It's giving me a frakking headache," Dee says, sinking down into the seat beside him, the top of her head a few inches from his shoulder. "Is it... getting louder for you?"

He bobs his head at her, and she sighs. Dee is pretty, he realizes, and he looks at her as though he is seeing her for the first time, from her green eyes to the curves of her breasts beneath her tanks. The noise of the music has dulled his reflexes, and she catches him before he can look away.

"Classy, Anders," she teases, and he runs a hand through his hair and smiles apologetically at her.

"Sorry," he says, shrugging, the motion calling her attention to the muscles of his arms. "It's just this song, you know? I feel... strange."

"Yeah," Dee agrees. "I know. What do you think this is, anyway?"

He frowns. "I feel like we'll figure it out," he tells her, hesitating for only a moment before reaching over to take her hand and squeeze it gently. Touching her is comforting in a way that is unexpected but familiar, and she seems to feel the same way, because she raises her eyebrows in surprise but shifts closer to him, her fingers curling around his.

They sit like that in silence for awhile, the song swirling around them. Sam is tense, and so is Dee: he can see it in the tightness of her jaw and the way she holds her shoulders.

"You wanna get rid of that headache?"

He says it without thinking, like it's a joke, but their eyes meet, and they both know it isn't. She's in his lap before he can suggest it, and when their lips come together the music in his head becomes a little more bearable. His fingers push urgently under her tanks as she tugs on the clasp of his trousers, and her hand wraps around his cock as his thumbs find their way under the thin material of her bra and pass over the hard points of her nipples. Dee takes her hand away from him and struggles to rid him of the clothing that separates them. Sam traces her collarbones with his mouth, keeping one hand against the small of her back as she wrestles to pull his clothing down over his hips. She runs one finger down the hard line of his cock before she arches up again, shedding her trousers and her underwear, and his fingers slide once through the wet heat between her thighs before she settles back against him with a hiss and a moan. Sam pulls her to him, closing his eyes when she shifts her hips so that the smooth warmth of her arousal slides against his hard cock. He groans and kisses her with a reverence that surprises both of them, and he can feel her smile against his mouth as they meld together, finding a beat that suits them. They sigh, the sound echoing the melody of the song thrumming in their blood, this haunting refrain that binds them together and pulls them closer than even the friction of their bodies could. Their hips move in time to the rhythm of the music that surrounds them, their movements growing more and more frenzied as the song becomes more complex, and the music swells around them as they reach the peak of their own crescendo. They collapse against each other as the music dies back down, though it's still haunting.

"Well," Dee breathes, her forehead resting on Sam's shoulder, "my headache's gone, even if the music's not."


End file.
